So long Mrs. Smith

This spring I think that I should go

I have had enough of this

And this place ain't what it was before

When I was young

Nine-thirty was late enough

And the sky was angel dust

A dead top trio of criminal saints

To worship at Wongs

Would you say that we were wrong?

Would you say that we were wrong?

So long Mrs. Smith

This spring I think that I should go

I have had enough of this

I'm going down to Edison